When we left for vacation, I purposely left behind all work, news headlines, personal and collective angst.
The last event on our farm before leaving for Cape
May, was hosting an Autumn Equinox Celebration. The evening included noticing the perfect
balance of day and night at the equinox, and gentle conversation about bringing more balance into our lives. It was a wonderful
way to meet new people, ease into slowing down as we prepped for our trip. 
I never anticipated the challenges we'd face on our simple road trip to the beach, but more on that later. Once there, our time at the beach was lovely. I did a lot of releasing while pedaling a smooth-riding, mint-colored beach cruiser up and down Cape May’s glorious promenade. Bird watching and hiking helped Jay and I both release the pressures of the summer, become more attuned to nature and each other. Earth’s grandeur provides a balance to our personal upheavals and the devastation of natural disasters.
Days felt timeless as we sat
on the beach watching sunsets. It was pure bliss watching the beach empty of people and refill with gulls, sand crabs and stars above. Such Divine emptiness, empty of thought and care, just aware of being alive, being together,
observing, and yet being part of nature!
Sitting together in the stillness provided an easy platform for dialogue and reframing the challenges of our year so far. Yes, we've struggled in transitioning from Pennsylvania to Virginia. Vision and eagerness didn't totally smooth the way. Despite loving our new farm – really loving the strong sense of place
we feel here with the wildlife and meadows that bring such joy, we still deeply feel the uprooting. Grounds-keeping here is definitely not like crop farming in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. We made, and are still making, countless beginner
mistakes with the land. Failing and misjudging the cost and management of this
beautiful but unfamiliar land takes a toll. Supporting each other through
isolation in the country, Jay's heart valve surgery, numerous trips back to Pennsylvania
as our children relocated this summer, and the ‘upset apple cart’ feel to our
family dynamics takes a toll too.
We even need to relearn gardening. Bugs and plant diseases we've never encountered turned our food source inedible and us grumpy. Lack of rain, and constant wind, dried everything out. Filling in from local farm markets took effort and expense. There are no roadside produce stands every few miles in this farm country. We came from an area where stands overflow with vegetables and fruit, even five or more kinds of lettuce of every color and flavor!
We even need to relearn gardening. Bugs and plant diseases we've never encountered turned our food source inedible and us grumpy. Lack of rain, and constant wind, dried everything out. Filling in from local farm markets took effort and expense. There are no roadside produce stands every few miles in this farm country. We came from an area where stands overflow with vegetables and fruit, even five or more kinds of lettuce of every color and flavor!
Then there’s the energy drain
of simply not being known. I underestimated how much energy it takes to build
up a new network, break into longstanding communities, and get to know others.
Though I make friends easily, I don’t make deep friends easily.
It takes energy allowing myself to be known. Starting over at 60 is tricky, especially when
not following a job, a network, or having an ‘in-a-nutshell’ reason for
relocating. We're quite tired of answering the question, “So, what brings you to the Shenandoah Valley?”
The peace at the beach though,
felt deeper than mere vacation happiness. I felt a shift beginning, a new
openness, a desire for balance between knowing our up- rootedness and welcoming the putting down of new roots.
Our drive to the beach was
symbolic of our transitioning - fraught with surprises, unexpected dislikes and
obstacles. We left for the beach on the hottest day of September (90 degrees) with no air conditioning in the car, accident on I95 around Washington thus a
traffic jam in the heat, CD player quit too so no music, GPS was sluggish resulting in missed turns, extra driving, missed ferry ride across
bay and the reroute added more driving.
So like our move, what we thought would be easy was quite difficult, and where we braced for struggle came ease. When we first moved I innocently wondered why all the farms had huge piles of sticks everywhere, and why no one builds stone houses though rocks are prevalent in Rockingham County. The rocks here are too soft for houses but hard enough to bust discbine blades when cutting hay. Farming here means endless rounds of picking up branches and sticks, as the trees here shed like our dogs -profusely! Stones crop up everywhere but refuse to stay on our lane. After a heavy downpour, when our neighbor’s grandson asked his grandpa where Jay was as he hadn’t seen him for a while, the instant reply was, “Oh, he’s sittin' on his porch cryin’ because all the stones in his lane washed away again.”
So like our move, what we thought would be easy was quite difficult, and where we braced for struggle came ease. When we first moved I innocently wondered why all the farms had huge piles of sticks everywhere, and why no one builds stone houses though rocks are prevalent in Rockingham County. The rocks here are too soft for houses but hard enough to bust discbine blades when cutting hay. Farming here means endless rounds of picking up branches and sticks, as the trees here shed like our dogs -profusely! Stones crop up everywhere but refuse to stay on our lane. After a heavy downpour, when our neighbor’s grandson asked his grandpa where Jay was as he hadn’t seen him for a while, the instant reply was, “Oh, he’s sittin' on his porch cryin’ because all the stones in his lane washed away again.”
How we laughed when told this
conversation!
Digging our feet in sand at
the beach erased all the heaviness we carried and brought us back to eagerness and vision. Dreams are grand! They carry you through the
rough patches. Life is just the hard work that comes afterward, in fulfilling those dreams, or letting go of our expectations of them. Either way, the creating, the sweat and labor is
part of the process. Like the crush of waves on the beach, rolling in, crashing,
releasing and easing out again, transitioning has it's own ebb and flow. The same Spirit that drew us to Starry Meadows will sustain us, recreate us. And the beauty here balances the rocks and sticks, the energy-drain of relearning and transitioning.
This beach tale ends with our returning home to a scene reminiscent of Lord of the Flies. While we were away, my beautifully
decorated pumpkins turned into a fly-fest of
rotting, bleeding pulp, the string of lights inside each pumpkin coated with slime!
And the chestnuts I gathered and left drying on the kitchen counter crawled with maggoty shaped chestnut worms. (Apparently chestnuts don’t keep at room temp!) Worms trailed down the cupboard, inched and clumped under the dining room table. Soon after I scrubbed the stains off the porch, cleaned up the chestnuts, flies and worms, news of the LA massacre hit the airwaves.
And the chestnuts I gathered and left drying on the kitchen counter crawled with maggoty shaped chestnut worms. (Apparently chestnuts don’t keep at room temp!) Worms trailed down the cupboard, inched and clumped under the dining room table. Soon after I scrubbed the stains off the porch, cleaned up the chestnuts, flies and worms, news of the LA massacre hit the airwaves.
Now, the serenity at the
beach seems far away, as does the idealist mentality that sneaks in on carefree
days. Where I want to believe the US will get its collective act together
and propel us all toward a saner, more loving, holistic life. Fresh from such idealism, I feel numb. What happens next, when, more
than our porches need a good scrubbing?
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| Stephanie Landis photography |
I hope Starry Meadows is a place
where people come and fall in love with the earth, or come take a break from their
angst by sitting among trees to watch deer or birds. Through individual spiritual direction,
workshops, retreats, solstice gatherings,
equinox celebrations and contemplative spiritual practices, I hope to participate
in community here, an ebb and flow of people who gather to support each other,
practice self-acceptance, welcome all, cultivate gratefulness, honor our beautiful
planet, walk, sit, meditate and pray through silence, conversation, lament and laughter.
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| Stephanie Landis photography |
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| Stephanie Landis photography |
I'll leave you with a paraphrased poem of Psalm 131 by Nan Merrill:
Most gracious Presence, let me not
be self diminishing,
nor arrogant, boasting of my virtuous deeds.
Let me not seek fame or set my heart on riches.
Help me calm and quiet my soul,
like a child quieted at its
mother's breast; like a child that is quieted,
so be my soul.
I shall be at peace in You,
O Breath of my breath. And,
I shall be at peace.
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Thanks so much for sharing this. It did my heart and soul good as I struggle with transition.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad your heart was lightened a bit, Herb. May you find Presence amid your transitioning.
ReplyDelete